


the end of the line

by burdenedwithgloriousfandoms



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angstangstangst, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, a short angsty thing i wrote after IW and forgot to post so here you go, background stucky, fuck you Thanos, idk yet, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 05:59:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18543727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burdenedwithgloriousfandoms/pseuds/burdenedwithgloriousfandoms
Summary: There is a grave in Brooklyn with Steve's name on it.Bucky stands among the wilting flowers and the ragged American flag, and stares at the plaque through tear-blurred eyes.Captain Steve RogersJuly 4th, 1918 ~ 2019-Bucky returns after the snap, only to find that Steve has sacrificed himself to bring everyone back.





	the end of the line

There is a grave in Brooklyn with Steve's name on it.

 

Bucky stands among the wilting flowers and the ragged American flag, and stares at the plaque through tear-blurred eyes.

 

**_Captain Steve Rogers_ **

 

**_July 4th, 1918 ~ 2019_ **

 

 

_A soldier 'til the end of the line. His courage, his bravery, his sacrifice, will live on. We will always remember him._

 

 

And for the first time since he's been back, Bucky falls to his knees, and sobs.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Steve was there, and then Bucky wasn't there, and Steve was rushing towards him, and then he wasn't there either.

And then there was orange.

 

All he could think of was Steve. His last, grief-stricken expression. The few minutes they'd spent together before the battle, the times they'd been together since Bucky had come out of cryo...

He could vaguely feel others around him, cries of despair and terror, but the orange drowned out most things.

 

And then- it could have been moments, or years, he was dimly aware of it disappearing, and then there was blue sky, and harsh earth pressing into his body.

'Steve!'

The yell rang emptily amongst the trees and sky. No one answered except the birds.

He rolled over onto his back, and forced his aching muscles to sit up.

'STEVE!'

The birds squawked in alarm, erupted from the treetops, and disappeared.

No answer.

 

He screamed Steve's name until his throat was raw and blood welled from half-moons on his palm where his fingernails had been digging in.

When he eventually heard footsteps, there was a spark of hope- but they were _wrong_. Not Steve's footsteps.

He tried to pull himself into a more defenceless position (the unwearied assassin inside him screaming getupgetupgetupgetup-), but then there were two men he vaguely recognised, speaking hurriedly in their language, and helping him to his feet.

 

 

The next thing he knew, and he must have passed out, sometime- is that they're climbing stairs, and someone is shouting, and someone is hushing him.

But then a door is wrenched open, and there are people he recognises, achingly familiar.

Tony was staring at him, a half-empty bottle in one hand. Sam was already pulling him into an embrace- is he... sobbing? T'Challa was there too, with Shuri by his side, and Natasha, and Clint, perched on top of a shelf. And Bruce, and Thor beside him, though he barely knows the guy. A reddish-haired woman -pregnant?- sits near Tony. Wanda is uncurling herself from the corner of a couch, and leaning against a wall is a man in a red cloak that Bucky thinks he might recognise from a list of HYDRA targets.

 

Sam released him, and Bucky still stood there, scanning the room frantically.

'Where's Steve?' He demanded.

The room was silent. He stared from face to face, all with anxious, sad expressions on them.

'Where's Steve.' He repeated. _Please, god, don't let him have done anything stupid, he's got to be okay, he can't be-_

'Bucky.' Someone said, and then he's being sat on the couch like a _goddamn two year old_.

'Where. The fuck. IS STEVE?'

'Bucky...' Tony said, and Bucky realised it had been him talking before. 'People started coming back months ago. You... You're one of the last, which- I guess makes sense since you were one of the first...'

He petered off, and Bucky clenched and unclenched his fists. He could feel the panic spreading, through his limbs, writhing in his stomach.

'We managed to get to Thanos, and... we managed to kill him. Wasn't particularly easy, god, we almost got mashed... But when it was all over, I was going to do it. To put on the glove, and swap myself for the souls trapped inside the infinity stone- but Steve, he- he said no. Don't do it. Think of my- my child.' He gestured towards the pregnant woman, but Bucky barely registers her. 'And he... He put the gauntlet on. Swapped- swapped himself instead. I'm so sorry, Bucky, I'm-'

'I don't- where the fuck is Steve? This is all some sick fucking nonsense, where's Steve?'

'He's gone, Bucky.'

He swings around to face Sam, wild and uncoordinated. 'No. NO!'

'He sacrificed himself, for everyone. Half of us are here because of him- half the universe is here because of him. Here-' Sam holds out an envelope. 'He wanted you to have this.'

'I DON'T CARE! STEVE-'

A dam inside him broke, and he's clawing at the couch, at anything, screaming in defiance, in desperation, and he slammed away the people who try to lay their hand on him. 'HE CAN'T BE DEAD! STEVE! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME HERE! Oh God, oh God- Steve, Steve- you fucking moron, how could you, again-'

Bucky’s screams turned to broken whimpers as the energy drained from him, and he curled up in the corner of the couch, fingers clenched in the material, tearing it.

 

And then someone wrapped strong arms around him, and pulled him onto their lap. _Natalia_. 'Shhh, shhh.' She ran her fingers through his hair gently, and for once, he didn't fight.

'Steve- oh god, I loved him. How can he be... how- Steve, Steve-'

‘Shh, Bucky.’

‘I loved him, _I loved him_.’

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The headstone is a hard lump of white marble against the washed-out blue sky of an early morning. Red flowers rest up against it, brown wilt marring their previously perfect petals.

 

Bucky traces the letters carved into the smooth surface.

_We will always remember him._

 

**Author's Note:**

> *sobbing in the corner* dont mind me
> 
> ahaha so who's ready for endgame  
> i get to see it in like 4 days and im not (help)


End file.
